When I saw the bright red letters of an exit sign, one corner of my lips tugged up.
I took that hallway, ignoring the doors on either side until I reached the end. It was all metal, painted a soft gray some time ago, but faded and wearing thin in places. I tried the handle, and it gave way.
I slipped out into a stairway that went up and down. Taking my chances that luck would still be with me, I went two more floors where it finally ended. Quickly picking the lock, I popped my head in to see where this had landed me.
Wind caught the ends of my braid, flinging it around. I stepped out onto the roof, not bothering with the spires on either side, and instead moving toward the center where a giant, stained glass ceiling looked straight down to where this summoning would be happening.
“Perfect,” I said, quickly getting back in the stairwell to wait out the next few hours.
I leaned back against the brick wall, sliding down to the ground. My head tilted back as the cold seeped in, but without the wind, it was doable. I counted the bricks on the ceiling, moving to the ones on the walls when the stairwell opened again.
“Anyone in here?” a voice that teetered on the line of masculine called. He sounded young, not like a child, but like a boy that was only just becoming a man.
I stayed quiet, opting not to respond and see what he did. A few seconds later the door slammed shut, and all was silent again.
It was almost time. If the Antares Coven were running their checks now, it wouldn’t be long. I waited another stretch of counting bricks before rolling to my side. My joints popped as I climbed to my feet and stretched my arms and legs. After hours of sitting in the dark stairwell, my muscles protested the movement almost as much as the stillness. I cracked my neck and opened the door leading out onto the roof.
Night had fallen in the windy city.
A gust hit me full in the face, making my chest tight.
Fucking wind. Fucking cold. I hated them both.
Gritting my teeth, I closed the door as softly as I could, and navigated the dark roof to where the stained glass was now the secondary source of light to the full moon overhead.
“Supernaturals and their moons,” I muttered, shaking my head. Any sound I made was lost in the shrieking of the turbulent night skies. I reached back and tucked my braid beneath the collar of my coat to stop it from whipping around everywhere.
The light coming from the glass ceiling brightened, and I moved right to the edge, then peered over it.
It was hard to make out every distinctive detail. There were four bright globs that I assumed to be fire. One stationed north, south, east, and west—equal distance from each other.
This is where, if I were planning to kill the coven, I should have done so.
I had a better plan, though. One that ended with them dead, me with my money, and perhaps, if I was lucky, my answers too.
I kneeled down, squinting through a single red-stained pane. It was easier to make out the members of the coven then. All thirteen of them wore dark robes, making them indistinct from one another. There was something else . . . something I hadn’t seen or planned for.
I squinted, getting so close to the glass that my nose touched.
My eyes widened when I realized what I was looking at.
There in the center of a circle was a person.
I’d bet my right arm, a young girl.
Someone easily manipulated. Someone not quite innocent, but ignorant in how dark the world could be. Someone that was meant to be an offering to the demon they were summoning.
The Antares Coven were bigger idiots than I’d realized.
I jumped to my feet, debating my options.
The first orb of fire went out. Shit.
I’d mis-timed this. If I took the stairwell, it would be too late. Anyone not in the circle when it was cast wouldn’t be able to enter it. Which only left one option.
I stepped back and loosed the tie on my trench coat, quickly reaching for one of my guns. I pointed at the ceiling and hoped like hell that this plan wouldn’t kill me. I opened fire. The glass cracked. Pieces fell away as I shot in a wide circle. The only thing worse than what I planned to do was getting stabbed while doing it.
The second orb of fire winked out.
My backpack barely touched the stone roof before I ripped it open and pulled out a grappling hook attached to forty feet of rope. I kept one on me for most missions, just for moments like this. Grabbing the end of the rope, I pulled, and it all unfurled.
The third orb blinked out, the glow from below now muted.
In a single motion, I turned and hurled the hook over the edge of the cathedral.
I couldn’t wait for the light to go out completely. If that happened, it was all over. Without checking to see if the hook caught, I took a deep breath.
Then I jumped.
4
My coat flapped in the wind as I rushed toward the ground.
The screams of the night sky didn’t fade so much as it was replaced by the ominous chanting of the Antares Coven.
Thirteen members spoke in ancient Hebrew, a language I was uncomfortably familiar with. A chill ran through me right as my left arm pulled taut. The burn in my shoulder as the muscle stretched too far to stop my impact was minor compared to the jarring sensation of being suspended twenty feet above the circle.
I’m going to pay for this later. It was my only thought before I let go entirely.
I bent my knees and rolled when I hit the ground, thankful for my jacket when I felt the small shards of glass press into it.
A less experienced coven would have stopped. If they were lesser prepared, they would have run. These weren’t amateurs, though, and my arrival didn’t scare them in the slightest.
I looked around the circle at each hooded figure. I couldn’t see their faces, but I could see they held athames. Their palms were already cut. Blood dripped from their self-inflicted wounds.
Those scarlet drops splattered the marble floor as their chanting reached its crescendo.
One long note filled the cathedral. Like a battering ram to my memories, it shattered every coherent thought.
Pressure built as magic from another plane flooded the circle. It filled me just as it filled the girl, not yet a woman, who sat on her knees across from me. They’d dressed her in white. She was supposed to bow like the little lamb led to the slaughter. Instead, she’d watched me jump. She saw me land. Our eyes locked as the magic entering this world intensified.
Pain filled her features. Pain and a sudden terrible understanding, as if she only just pieced together why she was actually here. A coven of thirteen could summon a demon with their combined power, but it would drain them, and they needed a funnel. She would get the worst of it.
Under normal circumstances, the sacrifice always died.
Maybe she wouldn’t, though. Maybe my presence would be enough.
Light gathered in the center of the circle. Embers of red and orange grew, swirling around each other faster and faster.
There was no way to brace myself for what was coming. I knew it in my bones.
The magic released in a wave of blinding light.
It rolled through me, and I noted the lack of pain only a moment before she began screaming.
Steeped in shadow, a naked figure knelt in the circle where before there had been only light.
Cold rolled through the cathedral as the demon lifted its head.
I could not see its face. Only strong shoulders and dark hair, but I knew it was male by its sheer size.